


Talks With A Stranger

by HachiHachi



Category: The Catcher in the Rye - J. D. Salinger
Genre: Underage Drinking, weird folks talking about nursery rhymes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 11:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14520030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HachiHachi/pseuds/HachiHachi
Summary: Done as a style imitation assignment. Takes place during Holden's stay at Edmont Hotel.





	Talks With A Stranger

 

_ There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile. _

_ He found a crooked sixpence upon a crooked stile. _

_ He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse, _

_ And they all lived together in a little crooked house. _

 

I went back down to the crap Lavender Room. I was thinking about buzzing Phoebe again when I woke up. I saw a couple on the other side of the hotel, all phony and that. The guy had a blue suit and black hair. It reminded me of Robert Shaw, a kid from Somerset Prep. He wasn’t actually a kid, he was just small, but anyway. He would hog the washbowl and mirrors at Somerset. Somerset didn’t have a lot of mirrors to begin with. Anyway, he would stand in front of the mirror and puff his chest up or something. He would gel his head for hours, as if his hair wasn’t oily enough. I mean, he was a good guy and all, I’m serious. But he’d be grating, and I swear I’d fought him if he weren’t so small. 

The lady had on this pink suit thing, and even from a distance I could tell she had some red lips. Girls always do that. They always put on something to look nice. They don’t even go anywhere important and they still do it. Honestly that’s what gets me, seriously. A girl could smear dirt on her face and I’d still think she’s cute. I don’t think I really like this lady, though. She looked a bit too old, and then walked in this phony way while kicking off her shoes. I honestly can’t stand girls like that. They’re cute  _ and _ phony. I can’t really blame them for being phony, though. 

Anyway I went down to the Lavender Room to clear my head. Stuff was just going on and I needed to head somewhere. A new band was there instead of that corny one from the other day. It wasn’t any better. They had this violinist that kept hopping everywhere like some madman. Sounded like weeping. Sounded like mad weeping. 

I just sat down at a table, since the lobby was still pretty much empty. The waiter wasn’t around anymore, so at least I got a better table. It wasn’t really better, honestly. It felt worse. Anyway, while I was thinking about switching seats a man came and sat down on the other side. I almost bolted, but I didn’t. I was really tired. 

He looked real phony, I’m serious. He had on this white shirt with a vest and pants and leather shoes. Classic phony. He looked at me up and down before smiling, like one of those weird adults who think they’re wise as hell. 

“Hello,” he said. He looked smug, like he beat me in chess or something. I’m not even all that interested in chess. It’s a phony game.

“Who’re you?” I asked, because I’m not tolerating phonies at my table. I also just wanted to know what he wanted and leave. 

“I’m Marie. Marie Surums. I like to have a table with company,” he raised his hand up. A waiter appeared and I felt angry. If he liked company he could’ve sat outside. But anyway I was nice enough to let him stay. I sat there because I needed to clear my head. 

He ordered two Campari and soda and pulled out a license from his wallet. The waiter went away like some skittish cat. I hate those kind of walks. Waiters shouldn’t walk around like that. Makes me anxious as hell. I can’t trust them with anything if they’re like that.

The guy returned with the two drinks. Once the waiter left, this guy slid one of them towards me. 

“Thought you wanted a drink. Feel free to decline,” he took a sip. I was thinking that this guy wasn’t that much of a phony after all. But the way he smiled made me want to fall on over and die. 

So anyway, this Marie guy, I still can’t get over his name. Who names their kid  _ Marie _ ? Anyway, he starts talking about his dogs. He really did. I don’t get why he won’t talk about normal things. He doesn’t talk much about them. I got bored and I guess he noticed and started talking nonsense about some old man. 

“Back in Cape Cod, the folks used to talk about this crooked man, who sort of walked around the place a lot.”

That killed me. I’m not kidding. I kept imagining this old man bent in all kinds of weird directions. I also thought about this hunchback-looking guy who crept around the streets. He continued.

“So he would apparently walk a crooked mile to find a crooked sixpence on some crooked stairs or something. I don’t get why there would be a sixpence in Cape Cod, but whatever.”

It all sounded really stupid, but I listened anyway. It gave me some distraction from last night. But it was a stupid story. If everything’s crooked for that weird old man, then he might as well be King Midas. Instead of turning garbage into gold, he just turns garbage into even more of a garbage. 

“Then he bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse. And I assume he brought them back home to his crooked house. It’s a little worrying.”

“Isn’t he going to die of disease? He literally brought a wild animal into the house. He’s going to die, I’m betting on it.”

“Well, I don’t know, young man. The folks never told me anymore other than that. I think he died. Maybe the house collapsed due to bad structure. Who knows.”

Honestly, how the man died doesn’t concern me, but it bit me. I wanted to know the end. The ideas kept spinning in my head. The cocktail was already half gone in my glass. I was sweating like a pig on a summer’s day. I hope I didn’t look like some slob. Anyway, why would a phony care?

He was going to leave. He shifted like he was leaving, so I guess he is. 

“I’m going back to Cape Cod. One of my dog’s got hay fever. It’s been nice meeting you. I’ll pay the bill, so no worries.” 

The Marie guy held out his hand. I didn’t want to shake it. Not with a phony anyway. But he bought me a drink. He told me a crap story. I wiped my hands on my coat before taking his hand and shaking it. His smile really killed me. It looked silly. He handed some cash to the waiter and quietly walked out. 

I was left alone in the dark lobby, with that damn violinist. I felt like I was going to faint. It was just a funny feeling. I went back to my room and blacked out. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's not particularly great or anything, and I'm terribly sorry if I botched it. Salinger's style is difficult to recreate.


End file.
